Page 74 of Rivals & Revenge

I swallowed down the disappointment. Ahren struggled with emotions too, and it wasn't right to demand soft and fluffy—that's just not the man he was.

A sliver of moonlight fell across the bed, providing the only light in the darkened room. In the low light, I could barely make out the shape of my phone on the nightstand. He must have cleaned it and brought it up for me. There was no way he would bring something covered in grime into his bedroom.

I squinted away from the bright light of the screen. "It's only three AM." I grumbled to the empty room.

A few more minutes waffling back and forth, and I dragged my exhausted ass from the bed, slipping one of Ahren's tees over my head, and wandered downstairs in search of him.

I wondered if something happened, or if he had gotten up to check on Larissa. Instead, I found him in the kitchen. Every weapon we had taken with us yesterday was spread across the table, most of them already cleaned.

Leaning in, I pressed my lips to his. "Couldn't sleep?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Sorry. Too much on my mind. I kept tossing and turning. I didn't want to wake you."

"Understandable." I said, dropping in the chair opposite him. "Hell, I guess if you had slept like a baby, that would have been weird."

He laid the knife he was cleaning on the table and took my hand. "I really wanted to spend the night holding you. I hope you know that."

I shrugged it off, tossing him a half smile. But his words soothed the ache from waking up alone.

He dropped back against his chair. "This isn't over. There's something we're missing."

I nodded, still half asleep, but if he needed to talk this out, I could be that for him.

"So, what do we know?"

He jutted his chin toward the refrigerator. Scraps of paper were stuck on the front, bearing his neat handwriting. In the corner, the notes we had received, along with the photos of Larissa.

I stood and walked over, my head tilting to the side to read some sideways notes. "Connor's boyfriend." "Losar" "Jax's map" "Camera range" I'd forgotten most of these details and here he was, trying to piece them together into a strategy. Or maybe he was just desperately grasping at straws.

He stood, raising his arms over his head, stretching his stiff muscles out, and busied himself with the tea while I examined the clues we had.

I was so wrapped up in studying the clues; I didn't notice him until he pressed the mug of hot tea into my hands.

"Thank you." I murmured, breathing in the heady aroma.

He nodded, taking a sip of his own tea.

"Find anything?"

"Yes and no," I said, looking up apologetically.

His brow arched, but he stayed silent, waiting for my explanation.

"The broker. The grove. You." My head shook from side to side as I tried to work out my thoughts. "This person set all this in motion. It started with you. She knows you're a hitter—me, too. How?"

"I'm not exactly low key about it, Kitten." he smirked.

"Yeah, well, maybe from now on, you should be." I threw back playfully.

I sipped my tea slowly as I stared at his makeshift evidence board.

"Our world isn't well known. Even if they figured out that you—have a second job, let's say. How would they know to contact the broker?"

"Fuck. I see your point."

He ripped a piece of paper from a small pad on the counter, writing "broker" before sticking it to the fridge with the other clues we had yet to make sense of.

"The answer has to be here," he muttered, his eyes raking over the clues as if heavier scrutiny would coerce them into spilling their secrets. In the end, the scraps of paper remained silent.

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